In The Cards
by SylvieT
Summary: Post-ep for 12.02 Tell-Tale Hearts. No real spoilers for the episode itself, just possibly for Catherine's future on the show and the present underlying mood. Catherine/Grissom friendship, a little Sara.


A/N: What can I say? I succumbed and watched episode 12.02 _Tell-Tale Hearts_ online. It was a mistake as afterwards I couldn't get to sleep for the ideas buzzing in my head. There is so much I could have written about for this episode – Brass and that one line of his about Ellie a case in point – but I chose Catherine and the episode's final scene in Grissom's – oops - in DB's office. No real spoilers for the episode itself, just possibly for Catherine's future on the show and the present underlying mood.

La lumière de l'âme – je ne sais pas si vous allez lire cette histoire puisque l'épisode ne sera pas télévisé en France avant l'année prochaine mais elle est pour vous. J'ai absolument adoré votre revue l'autre jour. Et comme aujourd'hui c'est mardi (enfin presque) et que je ne voulais pas vous décevoir et chambouler votre routine une deuxième fois j'ai cette petite offrande. Malheureusement il va falloir attendre quelques jours de plus pour le prochain chapitre de _All That I Am_.

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><p>On The Cards.<p>

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><p>Catherine left CSI with a heavy heart. It wasn't the first time, and probably wouldn't be the last. Things were moving too fast for her and she felt like she didn't belong any more. She was even crossing swords with Nick, for goodness sake, Nick who had stood by her and been her valued and trusted right hand for close to two years. She feel weary and disillusioned, unmotivated and truth be told a little uninterested as of late. The arrival of DB Russell and a new management style didn't sit well with her. Not when only a few weeks previously she'd still been boss.<p>

Letting out a tired sigh she beeped her SUV unlocked and after stowing her kit in the trunk climbed behind the wheel. She sat there in the empty lot, shoulders slumped forward, tired and for the first time in almost two decades wary of the future. She thought of the empty house waiting for her, of Vartann probably waiting for her too, and somehow neither filled her with much enthusiasm. She gave a shake of the head, willing the malaise to shift and dissipate. It didn't.

A warm smile suddenly spreading across her face she slipped her sunglasses on and turned the key in the ignition. She knew where she'd go. The time on the clock read 8.30 and she hoped that she wouldn't be intruding. Checking her mirrors she put the car in reverse, backed out of the space and drove the familiar route on autopilot, pulling up directly behind his car on the drive. She felt better already. She was standing at the door with her hand up, her finger poised over the bell, when it opened abruptly and a smiley face greeted her.

She jumped, then blew out a breath, her eyes narrowing in puzzlement. "So now you can see through_doors_?" she exclaimed feigning mock-offence at the fright he'd given her.

Grissom's face broke into a knowing smile. "It's new," he stated almost giddily, with a nod at a tiny black device overhead, and gobsmacked she followed his gaze. "We've only just had it installed," he went on proudly. "A sensor switches the device on with a tell-tale beeping sound and it starts filming when-" He stopped in his tracks. "Catherine, is everything okay?"

Slowly focusing back on him she flashed a brief smile. Her lips trembled, her eyes dropping and she shook her head. She let out a short breath and made herself meet his eye. _No, I'm not okay_, she wanted to say, but instead kept quiet. Soft music was playing in the background and she couldn't help the small smile that formed on her lips at the chef's apron he'd donned over his navy shorts and beige cotton shirt. Briefly she wondered why she didn't have that with Lou, the domesticity, ease and comfort that comes with trust, deep love and contentment, all of which Grissom had obviously found with Sara. And sadly she knew that the fault for that…want in her life lay solely with her.

"I was about to make a U-turn," she said at last, forming her lips into a pout, "but it seems that I can't even manage that these days."

"Too bad," he quipped brightly despite the slight darkening of his expression at her self-pitying tone. He opened the door wider, beckoning her in with his head. "But that's big brother for you. So, you're coming in or what?" he asked when she made no move to enter. "Have some breakfast with us."

"Gil?" Sara's quiet voice echoed from a distant point inside the house.

Grissom smiled. "She's just out of the shower. Come in and join us. Breakfast is ready."

Catherine's shake of the head was vigorous. "I'm sorry; I'm intruding. I shouldn't have come." She made to turn round but his hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Catherine, stay please," he bid softly, "And you're not intruding."

She turned, a wan smile forming at the mixture of affection and concern she saw in his eyes, heard in his voice. "You're sure?"

"Yeah," he said positively, motioning with a slight tilt of his head for her to get in, "it's been ages since we've caught up properly."

The last of her resolve melting away at his kind tone she gave him a nod before stepping over the threshold. She was following him down the steps to the kitchen when Sara came in, her head bent forward as she towelled her hair dry.

"I hope you've made enough. I'm starving," Sara said, looking up and pausing with surprise as she caught sight of Catherine.

"Look who I found hovering outside," Grissom told her pleasantly.

"Catherine," Sara smiled. The smile dropped off her face suddenly, her expression turning pained.

"Nothing like that," Catherine said quickly, realising that Sara wrongly assumed she was the object of her visit. "This isn't work related."

"Oh, good," Sara said with evident relief, resuming drying her hair, asking just as easily as Grissom had, "You're staying for breakfast?"

Catherine shrugged, her gaze flicking between the two of them uncertainly.

"She is," Grissom said with conviction. He moved about the kitchen, swiftly adding a third cover to the table. "She followed the smell of my cooking all the way from CSI."

Giggling Sara set about filling a cup with coffee which she held out to Catherine. "Maybe we should invite the guys round next time," she said. "It's been ages since we've all had breakfast together – I mean with Grissom there."

"DB too?" Catherine ventured.

"Ah, DB," Grissom said enigmatically, "the new boss. I hear he's a hippy?"

"I didn't say that!" Sara defended, playfully tapping him on the arm.

"Have you met him?" Catherine asked, aiming for a casual tone, yet unable, or maybe unwilling, to fake her mood, her lethargy.

"No. I haven't had the pleasure." Grissom paused and she looked up to find him studying her. She tried a smile that she knew didn't fool him. He flicked his gaze to Sara, then silently began filling plates with food and the three sat down to eat. She picked up her fork and began moving food round her plate.

"Sara said his presence was affecting morale," he said in a serious tone, chewing on his eggs.

Catherine looked up with surprise and Sara shrugged. "Well, he is," she said a little diffidently.

"I don't want to talk about him," Catherine said. "Can we not talk about him, please, or work?" She redirected an overly-bright smile on Grissom. "Tell me about Texas instead. How was it?"

"Hot?" he deadpanned, before letting his guard down and telling her at great length all about the body farm he'd helped set up in San Antonio. It was pleasing to see that he had lost none of his enthusiasm and fascination for a topic which most people would deemed gross and disgusting especially discussed over breakfast. Catherine found it refreshing and a nice change. Sara could barely stifle her yawns.

"See?" Grissom told her after yet another yawn from Sara, "This is what marriage does to people."

"No," Sara said, getting up and putting her empty plate and cup in the sink. "That's what hitting forty does."

"Some of us can't remember being forty," he said, winking at Catherine.

"Some of us still can," she retorted, chuckling with disbelief.

"Besides," he added pacifyingly, addressing his wife, "You're not _hitting_ forty for another year, dear."

Sara turned narrowed eyes on him. "You're keeping count?"

"I'm not, but you are."

"We all are," Catherine mused, watching their interaction fondly.

Sara wrapped her arms around Grissom's shoulders from behind and snuggled her face into his neck. "I'm beat and off to bed," she said. "Leave all this; I'll clear up later." Taking this as her cue Catherine got to her feet. Sara pulled back from Grissom and smiled. "Don't feel you have to leave on my account. You stay and catch up properly. I've already heard all he's got to say."

"That's what she thinks," Grissom said, watching as with a small wave Sara disappeared.

"She did that well," Catherine remarked, referring to Sara's oh, not so subtle retreat.

"What?"

He turned back toward her and she shook her head. "Never mind." Her gaze lowered. "I envy you," she said candidly, looking up, "I envy you and your life. You seem content, happy, fulfilled." He pulled a dubious face. "You got work you still love, a house, a wife, a dog…"

"I've always been a late developer," he said, and she laughed and realised then that she hadn't laughed like this for quite some time. "You've got Lindsey," he added, serious now.

"Yeah. Except she's ready to fly the coop."

Grissom lowered his eyes and Catherine kicked herself for killing the mood there as well. Sighing, she picked up her cup and took a small sip of the lukewarm beverage.

"You want a refill?" he asked, and smiling she shook her head. "Come on, Catherine, tell me what's bothering you."

Catherine smiled. "He's turned your desk back round," she said in a low, resigned voice, and sighed.

Grissom flashed a puzzled look. "Who has?"

"DB. He's moved your desk back the way you had it."

"I'm not following."

"Every time I step in his office I expect to see you."

A tender smile of understanding spread across his face. "Catherine, I've been gone nearly three years now."

She let out another sigh, her shoulder lifting as she took another sip, pondering his words. "I can't help thinking that maybe it's time I went too." She glanced up and met his gaze. "Too much has changed. It's like I don't fit anymore."

"You're tired and overreacting," he said, his tone mild, yet not dismissive. "Sara's told me about this…case you've been working – it's tough. It's bound to take it out of you."

"I can deal with the case, Gil. Russell?" She pulled a face. "Not so much."

"He's still finding his marks. He's got his own way of doing things but you'll get used to it."

"I don't know if I want to."

"He'll ease off once he knows what you're worth."

"I'm fed up, Gil. Tired. The job, the hours, the demotion…it's all getting too much."

"Then take a break from it all." She looked up with surprise at how quickly he'd changed his tune, at how simple he made it sound. "That's what I did. That's what Sara did, and look at the good it's done us. CSI's still an important part of our lives but it's not the be all and end all it used to be."

"I don't know."

"Why not?" he challenged. "I'm not saying quit. But how long has it been since you've had a break – a _real_ break? Nineteen years?"

She laughed. "Don't remind me."

"Besides you can afford it. The job will still be there when you want it – when you're ready for it."

"I couldn't do the job, Gil, that's why I got demoted."

"Catherine, that's not true and you know it."

"Isn't it?"

"You couldn't have foreseen that thing with Ray. If anything I feel guilty for giving him the job in the first place."

"I should have managed the situation better. Managed _him_ better. You would have."

"That's irrelevant. I made mistakes in my time you wouldn't have made. It's unfair to compare me to you, or me or you to DB." He paused. "What's stopping you? Lindsey's almost finished college…" he trailed off suddenly. "How are things between you and Vartann?"

Catherine's eyes widened at his change of tack and candour. "Hum…they're…" she shrugged the rest of her reply and sighed.

"Take an extended vacation," he insisted. "A leave of absence so you can clear your head and when you come back you can make a fresh start."

She laughed, amazed at how much he'd changed. "And where would you have me and Vartann go, huh?" she asked, a devilish smile on her lips.

"Costa Rica," he replied immediately. "I know this great waterfall." He winked. "Or Paris. I still have some contacts there. You would _love_ Paris, Catherine. Think of the sights, the food, the people, the culture, the history-"

Catherine's laughter echoed round the room. "The shopping," she said, her shoulder lifting. "It's certainly worked for you, hasn't it? Maybe you're right."

"There's no maybe about it." He paused, meeting her eyes as he said, "What about the Eclipse?"

"What about the Eclipse?" she countered, and then she shrugged, understanding what he was getting to. "I don't know the first thing about running a casino let alone a hotel complex such as this one."

"You're your father's daughter; you'd learn fast enough."

"Maybe," she sighed and flicked her long blond hair behind her. "Or maybe…" Grinning she seductively ran her tongue over her bottom lip, letting her sentence trail intentionally.

He watched her uncertainly for a moment, then his eyes rounded with extreme shock. "Surely you're not implying-"

Laughing she winked and pulled her leg out from under the table, stretching it up and to the side. "What, you don't think I've still got the moves?" Grissom gave her a searching look. "Relax," she said in another loud chuckle, "My days of stripping are long behind me." She held his playful gaze, glad that she had come and that so easily he'd made her feel better. "But listen to us," she then said, "It's all about me, me, me. Tell me, how long are you back for, this time?"

His eyes flicking to the back of the house he leaned in toward her conspiratorially. "Indefinitely," he said in a hushed whisper, "but don't tell Sara. She doesn't know."

"Why not?"

"Because I haven't told her yet."

Catherine registered a look of surprise, scoffing at the mischievous twitching of his lips. "But you've been back two weeks now."

His brow rose. "My point exactly."

Hers furrowed while she did some quick maths, a wicked grin breaking as she remarked, "Just in time for her birthday if I'm not mistaken."

"Aren't I just the perfect husband?" he quipped teasingly. Catherine stared at him, probing for an answer to her first question, and he shrugged as if what he was about to confess to made perfect sense. "I find that…when I come back from a lengthy trip away we have this kind of…prolonged honeymoon period. You know, like when young lovers…"

Laughing Catherine raised her hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. "I think I get the picture. Is that a subtle way to tell me I should go?" she asked still giggling as she pretended to get up from the table.

"Not at all," he laughed.

She paused and exhaled a breath, then gave him a wide smile. "I was right to come," she said. "Thank you. I needed this."

He covered her hand with his. "Anytime."

Staring at his bright eyes she nodded, her grin wide and delighted.

"What?" he asked softly.

She lifted a self-conscious shoulder. "I've missed you, Gil. More than I realised."


End file.
